When I Was Younger
by Lost1nTheLight
Summary: When I Was Younger by Liz Lawrence. Dean Winchester. Please review!


**Disclaimer: I don't own the song 'When I Was Younger', or Supernatural. Of course. **

When I was younger, I told my mother, 'I say one day I'm gonna make you proud'.

_"Alright, I think it's time for bed, Dean." Mary laughed as her son tried to keep his eyes open. He must have been very tired because he didn't even object, just reached up for her hand and followed her up the stairs to his bedroom. His father was still out and it was just him and his mother, plus Sammy but he was already fast asleep. As he climbed into bed and Mary sat next to him to say good night, he looked up at her with those big green eyes. _

_ "Mommy," He said. Even though he wasn't even five years old yet, he'd decided a few weeks ago that he was too old to call her 'Mommy' anymore. But sometimes when he wasn't paying attention it still slipped out._

_ "Yes sweetheart?" She smoothed back his hair and smiled._

_ "Someday I'm going to be a hero. I'm going to make you proud. I promise." He was completely serious, and it was an odd look on such a young boy's face._

_ Mary laughed, "I know you will." And then she began to sing 'Hey Jude' softly as he drifted off._

Now that I'm older, it's so much harder, to say those words out loud.

_Dean passed a hand over his face and just stood there for a second. Then he took a breath, crouched down and stared at the tombstone. _Mary Winchester. _He hadn't been here in maybe eighteen years, but Sammy had left and his dad was . . . his dad. So he'd decided to come, he didn't know why, it made no sense seeing as he'd avoided even bringing her up for almost longer than he could remember, but his dad was on a job and he was alone._

_ Dean carefully placed the flowers on the grave, just a handful of bluebells he'd found at the edge of the cemetery. He didn't know what he was doing; flowers? He'd never picked flowers before in his life, but it seemed right. "Hey, mom." He said quietly, and then stopped, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth for a second. With his dad he hardly got to open his mouth, too busy with jobs, and following instructions, and now that he was in a graveyard full of silent tombs he couldn't find a word to say._

_ "I, uh . . . I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to keep my promise, alright? I'm trying to, at least. I . . . I'm doing my best to be a hero for you. And I – I'm going to –" But he couldn't say it. He looked down for a second and shook his head. He couldn't do it._

_ So instead he just sat down there, in the cemetery and after a few moments began to hum quietly. A song his mother used to sing him to sleep to. 'Hey Jude'._

You're growing taller, a little smarter, and one day you're going to leave home.

_ They were fighting again. Dad and Sammy. Dean kept his face emotionless as each yell tore through him. Why was it so hard for them to just be a family? Wasn't it enough to just have each other, why did they always need more? _

_ His brother had gotten so tall that not only did he tower over Dean, but their father as well. He was a smart kid. Dean knew what he wanted, even though he would never say the words out loud. He wanted to go. To stop hunting, to get a degree. He could do it too, Dean was sure. He didn't want to be a part of this life anymore. And Dean was terrified that he'd get what he wanted. He supported his little brother, he wanted him to be happy, but if he left it would crush him. The worst part was that he knew Sammy didn't feel the same. He knew that the first chance he got his brother would be gone, and that he wouldn't regret it for a second. _

_ But Dean couldn't stop him. He wasn't Sammy anymore. He wasn't the little kid Dean needed to take care of twenty four seven. He was ready to move on with his life and forget all about the sleepless nights Dean had stayed awake with him through, because he was so scared something was coming for them. He was ready to leave his family, his home behind._

_ The shouting got so loud that Dean winced, and tried to block it out in his head. He watched Sam throw his coat on, and his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He stepped forward, ready to intervene. Ready to do whatever it took to make his brother stay._

_ "You step out that door, boy, and you don't ever come back, you hear me?" Dad's voice seemed to thunder inside Dean's very bones. _

_ Dean opened his mouth but he couldn't say anything. He was frozen. Sam couldn't leave. He was his brother. His responsibility. _

_ Sam caught Dean's eye for a second and they just stared at each other, Dean wordlessly begging him not to go, and then Sam turned and walked out the door, just as Dean knew he would._

Oh will you look like, your mother's father, when you are fully grown?

_Dean had never looked much like his father. It was always his mother he seemed to have mainly inherited his features from. Sometimes even after he'd fallen asleep Mary would stay in his room, just gazing at his peaceful face. Her son was a beautiful child. Even with his ears that stuck out a little too far, and his freckles. _

_Occasionally the thought would flicker across her mind, catching her off guard. What he would be like when he grew up. If he would still have the goofy grin, the long eyelashes, the tiny dimples you could only see if you looked close. Would he still look like her? Or would age bring out the qualities he'd gotten from John. Or maybe he'd look like _her _father, although she hoped he'd never turn into him. She hoped he could hold onto his innocence for far longer than she'd been able to. _

When I was younger I asked my father, 'Why are we so human?'

_ The sound of the glass slamming down on the counter startled Dean a little. Through the haze of alcohol he frowned down at his hand. He hadn't put it down that hard, had he? And why was it empty? Had he really already finished? How many drinks was that? He couldn't remember. He looked up to his where his father was sitting beside him. "Dad? I'm not feeling too hot."_

_ John scoffed without looking at him. "I wouldn't expect so. I think you've had enough for one night. Let's go back to the motel."_

_ Dean nodded groggily, attempting to stand but falling back against his stool. John sighed and slipped his arm around his son, supporting him. He led a stumbling Dean from the bar across the street to their motel room, and as soon as they were close enough so he could fall onto the bed without getting hurt, John let him go. Dean just laid their sprawled across the mattress, staring at the ceiling, waiting to see if it would stop drifting in and out of focus but it didn't._

_ "Sooner or later you're going to have to learn to hold your liquor, boy." John's voice came from the other side of the room. The thing was, Dean usually could. But he'd kept on drinking and drinking and drinking until he finally got drunk. He'd wanted to get drunk. Of course he wouldn't tell such a thing to his father, because he knew he'd see it as weakness, considering the reason. _

_ They'd just finished a hunt, and he wanted to numb the pain. It was so simple, all they'd needed to do was salt and burn some bones. But Dean hadn't been quick enough and now a little girl was dead, and it was his fault. She couldn't have been any more than twelve years old. Her name was Sophie. The only words of consolation John had had to give were, "We'll do better next time." But that wasn't enough. Dean didn't want to do better next time. He wanted to have done better this time. _

_ If John really did think Dean was weak then he was right. He'd hardly even spoken the girl. How come he was such a mess? What was the point? What would that solve? Nothing. But he felt it anyway._

_ "Why are we so human?" The words just slipped from his mouth. Obviously he was much more intoxicated than he'd thought because there was no chance he would ever ask his father a question like that unless he was on drugs strong enough to make him wonder if Sammy was actually a girl. In the moment though, he didn't care. All he wanted was to know the answer._

_ John didn't speak for a very long time. In fact, Dean never found out if he'd replied or not, because he passed out before he heard anything. They never spoke of it again._

Now that I'm older, I think I figured it out, we're just doing what we can.

_ Dean closed the cover of the small barred rectangle on the door of the panic room, so he wouldn't have to see Sam's eyes. Sam who wasn't really Sam with eyes that weren't really his. He couldn't look at him. This pretend brother of his. _

_ When he was younger, after Sam had gone to college, when it started to hurt too much after a hunt Dean would drink until he didn't know where he was or who he was. But over the past years it had begun to hurt like that every single night and drinking didn't stop it anymore, so he'd just learned to survive. And he'd always hated it. He'd wondered why it was that being human meant feeling like every time you smiled it felt like the corners of your mouth had to lift hundred pound weights just to turn upwards. _

_ But seeing this Sam, this Sam who didn't care about anything, he realized that there were worse things. That feeling pain was better than not feeling anything at all. And that maybe people didn't just hurt because they were human, but to stay human. _

Because I won't, I won't let you down, I won't let you down.

_ "I won't let you down." Dean promised her quietly. It didn't matter anymore that he was talking to a tombstone, because it was a vow to his mother. A vow he was going to keep._

_ "I'm not going to let you down Dean." Sam stared at him from where he stood, a couple drops of blood spattered on his cheek. "Look at me, Dean."_

_ The man sighed and raised his eyes to meet his little brother's. _

_ "I'm not going to let you down."_

_ Dean looked at him for a long moment, and was startled when he found that he believed him. That's was what brothers were supposed to do though, wasn't it? Believe in each other?_

_ "I know." Dean nodded. "I know."_

_ "I need you to trust me on this one, Sammy. Okay? I need you trust that I won't let you down." Dean pressed, holding onto his brother's jacket sleeve so he couldn't walk away. _

_ Sam turned to look at him tiredly. "It doesn't matter anymore, Dean. Just let it go."_

_ "No!" Dean jerked Sam's arm forcefully. "Don't you say that to me. Of course it matters. And I'm promising you right now, that I won't let you down. I'm promising you that."_

_ Sam clenched his jaw and frowned at the ground. When he finally cleared his throat and looked back up at his brother, his eyes were shiny. "Okay." He whispered. "Okay."_

_ "Okay." Dean echoed, letting his sleeve go._

_ Okay._

When I was younger, I told my mother, 'I say one day I'm gonna make you proud'.

**Please review!**

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


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